


The Kindness Of Strangers

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Drinking, Fluff, Gay Love, Happy, Homophobia, Loneliness, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right as Cas was getting ready to leave for bed, Dean stopped him, grabbing his hand.<br/>He sat back down next to Dean.<br/>"Yes, what is the matter?"<br/>"I was just wondering, why did you bring me here? Why did you just decide to plop me in your car, hoping I wasn't a serial killer?"<br/>Castiel smiled, and leaned closer to Dean, until their lips were only inches apart.<br/>"I believe in the kindness of strangers."<br/>He closed the distance between their lips, and sealed the promise of being there for Dean with a sweet, tea tasting kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kindness Of Strangers

Opening a fresh pack of cigarettes, Dean Winchester sighed.  
It was raining.  
The self-hatred radiated from his center as he walked, quickly trying to find shelter from the weather.  
What would he do now?  
He had no home. Only a 67' Chevy Impala, some clothes, a box of C.D.'s, and a bit of cash.  
It wasn't like he had any destination.  
His father had practically disowned him, forcing him to leave his little brother Sam alone with that horrible excuse for a man.  
Dean found himself inside a gas station, the heater was rattling, and trashy pop music was playing.  
Solemnly, he walked around the store, stocking up on things he would need, like toiletries and snacks for the road.  
He then approached the cashier, who was some tired looking teenage girl.  
Setting the things down on the counter, he didn't answer when she asked him how his day was, he simply glared at her until she shut up, and took the plastic bag back outside.  
Dean pondered the fact that he would have to find work, and some place to sleep eventually.  
He got into the car, started it and turned up the heat and the music. Suddenly, all the emotions hit him, and he broke down in tears, He would never see his brother again.  
He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, and pulled out of the gas station parking lot.  
The highway beckoned him sadly.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean felt his eye lids growing heavy, and he took an exit off the highway, and pulled into the parking lot of some cheap motel.  
He got his key, and stumbled into his room.  
He threw his backpack full of very little down, and collapsed onto the sorry excuse for a bed.  
Dean pulled off his shoes and burrowed around the blankets.  
He felt hollow, and the tears came back. Eventually he succumbed to slumber.

 

The dream was vivid and haunting. Real. True.  
It had happened so many times.  
His father, John, drunk and shouting at Sam, then hitting him with a glass bottle until he could barely see.  
He awoke with a start, shaking and sobbing his eyes out like a little girl.  
He wanted his little brother, he wanted to be hugged by his tiny, soft arms and be told he was going to okay, and that he was the best brother in the world.  
Dean missed his home.

 

The next morning, Dean quickly got out of bed, avoiding himself in the mirror, got dressed, and was on the road before nine a.m.  
He sped through countless towns, quietly humming along to AC DC and Led Zeppelin with the windows down.  
His hair must've been a sight to see, wind tousled and bed-headed, he ran his fingers through it absent mindedly.  
He thought maybe he should check, but he didn't want to face himself.  
He couldn't deal with it.  
It was terrifying, when he looked in the mirror and he had no idea who the man staring back at him was.  
It sent shivers down his spine, and it just brought back all the beatings and screaming fights and crying from years past.  
It was familiar and surreal and strange.  
Dean didn't like it.  
He was and wasn't himself.

 

* * *

 

Dean Winchester pulled into the next hotel at ten that night.  
It was a nice enough seeming place, and it was warm and comforting inside.  
He booked a room for the night and made his way to the third floor.  
Normally, he stayed in motels only, but this was the only place he could find for miles and he really didn't mind it.  
It wasn't that expensive, especially for a hotel. Plus, the bed was comfy and the room came with free cable.  
Hours after he had shut off the television and told himself to go to bed, he was still staring at the ceiling, tears running down his cheeks.  
He asked himself where he wanted to go.  
He could go anywhere in the world at all.  
The only place Dean wanted to go was back to his brother.  
Nineteen. He was nineteen years old without a home.  
He then knew he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon.  
The blonde decided to go and wander around the hotel, because it was better than letting his brain rot from watching T.V., or crying over something he couldn't fix.

 

Dean found himself at the top floor, opening the door to the roof. Apparently, there was a garden out there or something.  
He was all for checking that out.  
He closed the door softly behind him, and looked around.  
There were flowers all around him, it was beautiful.  
So many colors, illuminated by the moon, and the few fluorescent lights around the garden.  
There were a few tables and chairs, benches overlooking the tiny town the hotel was in.  
The most breath-taking of all, though, would have to be the sky.  
It was the clearest Dean had ever seen the sky.  
Tiny lights twinkled everywhere. Suddenly, he felt so incredibly small.  
It was like the universe was lied out in front of him.  
He felt like crying.  
Then he thought about the last time he had seen the stars that way.  
He and Sam, in an empty field, lighting fireworks and watching them explode in the beautiful, perfect, twinkling night sky.  
Laughing and falling on the ground like idiots.  
Then he did cry.  
He fell into a chair and he just let it all out.  
All the hurt and suffering he had been holding in, knowing that when he really really cried about it, it had to be real. When he let he hurt sink in, it wasn't just a bad dream.  
His whole body shook with sobs.  
Dean pulled his knees into his chest and hid his face between them.  
The stars seemed the be laughing at him.  
Pushing him into madness, the more he felt, the more he cried, he more he got angry.  
He pulled at his hair in frustration as he got up, almost tripping over the chair, he began to pace around.  
He was said: "Worthless." Over and over again under his breath.  
He fell against the small fence, surrounding the roof, and curled into a ball again.  
Crying even harder.  
He was worthless.

 

* * *

 

 

"Excuse me? Are you alright? Can you hear me? Can you speak?"  
Dean felt a firm hand on his knee.  
He shook as he looked up at the strange voice.  
Something twisted in his chest.  
The bluest, most pure and honest eyes stared worriedly back at him.  
He looked further, harder and realized that it was a man, who couldn't be much older than him, with dark, messy raven colored hair, pale, ivory smooth skin and rosy pink lips.  
It was an angel. He was dead. That seemed to make the most sense.  
"Hello? I can help you. I need you to tell me, what is your name?"  
Dean's hands shook, and he reached for the other man, steadying himself, and standing up, still relying on his strange and beautiful creature to keep him upright.  
"Am I dead?" he choked.  
"I can assure you that you are indeed alive." the stranger said, his voice gravelly, and deep. Rich and beautiful.  
"Dammit. I-I w-was hoping m-maybe I mi-ght get lucky for on-ce." he tried to calm himself down, but to no avail.  
"Good, you can speak. I am Castiel. I work here. I believe you are having a sort of a panic attack. I know how you help. Will you come with me to my car?"  
Dean nodded, unable to do much more.

 

The mysterious Castiel took Dean's arm, and offered himself as support on their way into the elevator, and down into the parking lot.  
As soon as he helped Dean into his seat, the blonde man curled into himself.  
Castiel got in the car as well, and turned the key, starting it up.  
He turned to Dean.  
"Could you tell me your name?"  
Dean nodded, his eyes glossy, and red rimmed.  
"I'm Dean."  
Castiel smiled ever so slightly, and put a firm hand on his shoulder.  
"Dean. I've known people with your same problems my whole life. I know how to deal with this sort of situation. I'd like to take you back to my home, that way you'll be in a safe environment and I can talk to you, maybe make you some tea, and calm you down. Would that be acceptable?"  
Dean nodded.

 

A few minutes later, Dean found himself curled up on some beautiful strangers house, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him.  
Castiel sat down a few minutes sex to him, now in a t-shirt and jeans, instead of what must of before been his work clothes.  
"I'm just going to ask you a few questions to calm you down, try and answer them as best you can, and remember to breathe, alright?"  
Dean nodded again.  
"Okay, Dean, are you safe?"  
He thought about that. This stranger had picked him up out of the kindness of his heart when he was freaking out on a roof in a random hotel. Just because he knew how to deal with it. He didn't want sex, at least not at the moment. (Besides, he was beautiful, Dean wouldn't really mind.) He believed the guy honestly wanted to help him. So yes, now he wasn't lonely. He was with this beautiful, nice, mysterious and strange man Castiel, and yes, he felt safe. As odd as that was.  
He took a deep breath, and looked at Castiel with a smile.  
"I'm starting to think that I might be."  
"Good, that's a step, especially considering you don't exactly know me." he said, gently and put a hand on Dean's shoulder again. A gesture than had his skin on fire.  
"Can I tell you something, Cas?"  
He dropped his hand and tilted his head, looking at Dean with confusion.  
"Yes, that would acceptable."  
"You're nice, charming, honest and a little bit beautiful. If you weren't for you I probably would've jumped off that roof. You've already almost calmed me down in about forty five minutes when I've been trying to do that my whole life. So, I actually want to know you."  
Castiel's eyes widened.  
Then he smiled.  
"I'm sure that can be arranged. But first, I'd really like to make sure you are okay. Just a few more things. Drink your tea, Dean."  
Dean did drink his tea, in fact, he had three more cups.  
Castiel told Dean to stay on his couch that night.  
They had learned so much about each other in such a short amount of time.  
Castiel was a writer, and he was working at the hotel so he could pay rent, and eat and such, until he was able to get published. His younger sister Anna, had suffered with anxiety and depression, and he had practically raised her. Dean almost broke down at that line. That's what Sam always said, when talking about their relationship.  
He told Cas the whole story with his dad, and how his mother had died in a fire, caused by John, and how his brother was the most adorable, nerdy thing in the world.  
They told each other the things they both liked, like Star Trek, and cuddling, and old cars. And the things they didn't like, like religious idiots, alcoholics, sluts and liars.  
Right as Cas was getting ready to leave for bed, Dean stopped him, grabbing his hand.  
He sat back down next to Dean.  
"Yes, what is the matter?"  
"I was just wondering, why did you bring me here? Why did you just decide to plop me in your car, hoping I wasn't a serial killer?"  
Castiel smiled, and leaned closer to Dean, until their lips were only inches apart.  
"I believe in the kindness of strangers."  
He closed the distance between their lips, and sealed the promise of being there for Dean with a sweet, tea tasting kiss.  
It didn't stop there, either.  
Castiel and Dean ended up in the older mans bed, legs tangled together, arms wrapped in a tight embrace.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Miracles. That's what Dean's life had turned into. A series of miracles, stacked up on top of each other.  
Dean stayed in town. He started working as a mechanic, since the town didn't really have a very reliable one as it was.  
He bought a tiny house, on the outskirts of the tiny town, and bought his own furniture, and decorated the house just the way he wanted it.  
He bought a record player, and a C.D. player.  
He bought car posters, and movie posters.  
He framed the torn and frayed family picture he kept, from when his mother was alive, and Sam was just a baby.  
Dean and Castiel started dating, they saw each other every chance they got.  
Cas was the best medicine. He was a great listener,and he gave good advice. He understood. He was patient and kind.  
If Dean was having a bad day, he soothed him. He told him to breathe, and made him tea, and traced circles on his hand until he was calm.  
He was this magnetic, breathtaking, and beautiful creature that had suddenly appeared in his life and turned everything around.  
Dean was finding himself in Castiel. He was beginning to feel things, good things, and he was beginning to understand.  
Bad things sometimes happen to good people, but it always gets better.  
Now, he felt like his life had some sort of order and purpose, and light to it.  
Castiel made him feel high, almost.  
In the day they kissed, and played with each others hair, and lied in the park, next to each other as the writer brainstormed and Dean listened to classic rock on his headphones.  
In the night, they fell into the fire, and danced in it until they couldn't breathe, and couldn't move and all they knew was the love that they shared.  
Dean's skin glowed, and his smile was contagious, real and bright.

 

* * *

 

 

Years passed.  
Dean was now almost twenty-four, and he and Castiel had been going steady the whole time.  
They did argue every once in a while, but most of the time there really wasn't much to disagree on.  
They talked about everything together, and they understood each other.  
Castiel was Dean's sun. He was the center of his world.  
His life became magic, and they had moved in together not too long ago.  
Their house was beautiful, and it felt like home.  
It smelt of incense, leather, tea and cinnamon.  
Dean wouldn't trade his life with Cas for anything.  
It was sort of small. Neither of them had a lot of money, but they were both content, and happy with each other. What they had to offer each other.

 

* * *

 

Dean was out grocery shopping for he and Castiel.  
They were grilling out tonight, burgers. With potato salad and chips.  
He was excited. He was good at burgers.  
He was in the chip eisel. Strolling slowly and pushing his cart along.  
Suddenly, he heard a gasp behind him.  
He turned around, frowning, wondering what was happening.  
"I can't believe it. Holy shit." he heard the stranger say.  
There, stood an extremely tall man, with dark brown hair that went all the way to his neck and hazelly puppy dog eyes that Dean would know anywhere.  
"No fucking way." he whispered. "Seriously?"  
Tears were collecting in his eyes.  
"Dean?" whimpered the man.  
Then Dean attacked him, and threw his arms around the man and cried like a little girl.  
"Sammy, I can't believe it. It's you." he choked.  
They stood there hugging for at least three minutes.  
"I missed you so much." Sam said, pulling away finally. "What are you doing here?"  
Dean smiled.  
"Shopping for dinner tonight. I'm grilling for my boyfriend. We live right outside of town. How did you end up here? What are the fucking odds, man?!"  
"I was just passing through, and decided to grab something to eat. Did you know I've been looking for you for five years? As soon as I could I got the hell outta there and got on the road Dean. I didn't want anything to do with him after he kicked you out. I made that clear to him. Have you been happy? Have you been taking care of yourself? Is this boyfriend good for you?"  
Dean put a hand on his arm and smiled again, widely.  
"I've been really, really good, Sammy. Things went to shit only to get really good. Cas, he's...he's amazing. He's exactly what I need and he's always there for me."  
Sam smiled too, and wrapped his arms around his older brother once more.  
"I'm so glad you're safe."  
"Sammy, we have so much to talk about. Why don't you come back home with me? Meet Cas! Stay for dinner! Stay the night!" Dean beamed.  
"If you don't mind, I'd love to..."  
The blonde had tears in his eyes as he loaded his groceries into his car.

 

“CAS! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!” Dean yelled, happily.  
The windows were open, and you could hear a light crash and some cursing, and then footsteps as Castiel approached the back door.  
“Dean?!” Cas rushed outside. “What is the matter? Are you alright?!”  
Dean smiled, and grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out into the driveway.  
“Cas,...this is Sam.” he said, gesturing towards his younger brother.  
“Dean...you mean, the Sam?” Castiel asked, eyes wide.  
He nodded.  
“Hi...” Sam said. “I assume you’re the Cas?”  
Castiel grinned, and stuck his hand out.  
“I am very glad to meet you, Sam.”  
Sam smiled widely, and shook it firmly.  
“You too, man.”  
Dean smiled, and wrapped his arms around Castiel tightly, and then pulled one arm away and grabbed Sam.  
Good things do happen.  
“I love you, both. So much.”


End file.
